


Damar's Thinking Time

by Yel_Ashaya



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dominion War, For Cardassia!, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yel_Ashaya/pseuds/Yel_Ashaya
Summary: A sort of sequel to 'Weyoun's Thinking Time'. Damar considers Cardassia's role in the Dominion; surely it can't be fair? He's had enough of Weyoun and the Female Founder. He's been abandoned by Dukat. And he has rebellion in his mind.(Originally published on fanfiction.net, where I'm called 'Yel Ashaya')Disclaimer: Star Trek, except my OCs, is not mine (sadly)





	Damar's Thinking Time

_Do this, Damar. Do that, Damar._  Every single day. Every _hour,_ even, there's something for me to do. What's wrong with him? Can't he do something  _other_  than order me about for once? No, of course not. He lives only to serve the Founders. Founders my backside. I mean, I guess it was sort of fun, at first. A year ago, I had Dukat with me. And, trust me, Skrain would always put that Vorta back into his place.

If Weyoun thinks we're going to win this war, he must be defective. Perhaps I should deal with that... Say, where are the airlocks?

I don't think things could be any worse. I miss those days when it was just Dukat and I. I miss serving under him. I miss looking around to see Cardassians who aren't scared witless by the abundance of stoic Jem'Hadar, conniving Breen, pretentious Founders, or those Vorta. Those insufferably cherubic, finicky, pale-faced, purple-eyed Vorta!

I've lost my only friend. Dukat is a wonderful man, such a firm and experienced leader. Weyoun ought to take a leaf out of his book. But now Dukat's gone. Gone to find another destiny, it seems. Fancy, masquerading as a Bajoran! All those years that we spent trying to control those people, and now he's basically joining them.  
But I suppose it's no different to Ziyal. Ziyal... That was a mistake. I've never made such a big mistake in all my life. How could I? What on Cardassia was I thinking? She was a traitor, I know that, and that's what I have to use to justify it. But it's a poor reason. I've killed - murdered - my commanding officer's daughter. So what does it matter that she was half-Bajoran? Killing soldiers, that's different. Contemplating - and getting dangerously close to planning - killing Weyoun. Now, again, that is different. He can always be replaced. As can the Jem'Hadar. We Cardassians cannot. Once we fall, we are down forever. Why can Weyoun not see that? He's a solid, as the Founder would say, so he must have a grasp on what a mortal life is, surely?

Sometimes I wonder, I worry, what it is that Dukat's doing. He's contacted me, of course, but I only ever get a vague idea. I suppose if he told me too much, it would be too dangerous. It would be just Weyoun's style to bug the room.

But he's Dukat, and he knows what he's doing.

Unlike myself. What do I do everyday? Wake up, drink kanar, meet with Weyoun at Central Command, swear at Weyoun, go back to my quarters and drink kanar. Not much of an existence, is it?

I miss my family, my wife and children. No Vorta or Changeling could ever know what that's like. I miss Cardassia Prime. Such a beautiful city. At least, it  _was._  Now I sound like Major Kira. But now I think I understand what she meant all those years ago. Cardassia has been polluted and damaged by this war. By the Dominion. I'm starting to think we were wrong to ally with the Dominion. The Breen have been promised some of our planets. The Jem'Hadar are demanding more and more white.  
And everytime I walk into Central Command, I swear the smile on that insufferable little Vorta's face gets wider and more smug.

I think I'm starting to understand Sisko's point of view. He warned us - no one can say that he didn't - not to get involved with the Dominion. Why didn't we listen?  
And the war itself is useless. We've lost Dukat. Even the Romulans look set do join the Federation! I have to shake my head. I could do with some kanar.

But I hear my voice being called through the commpanel. High-pitched and patronising, it can only mean one thing.  _"Damar, the Founder wishes to speak with you."_

I mutter something under my breath. I don't mean to. It just comes naturally. Living in such close quarters with a Vorta, and one such as him, certainly takes its toll on your wits.

So I have no choice but to compose myself and grit my teeth. "Of course," I call back, my hand hesitating over the commpanel. "Right away."

But I'll tell you this: I've had enough. Enough of being ordered around like I'm a mere Garresh. Pah! My insignia says I'm a Legate, and I want to be treated like one. I have all of these vicious and excellent ideas for getting Weyoun and the Changeling to listen, but as soon as I'm confronted by their smugness, their smoothness, my tongue goes limp. If Dukat isn't going to be here to help me, then I had better start rethinking things... And I don't think kanar can do that.

 


End file.
